A collection of comments on classic pop lyrics from an irritated New York hotdog vendor, or something.
"You're no good, heartbreaker - you're a liar and a cheat."
All right, don't beat around the bush, Aretha. Jeez.
"She looks like a painting: Jackson Pollock's Number Five".
Yeah, real funny, Brown. That's my cousin you're talking about. Jeez.
"Tramps like us, baby we were born to run."
Who you callin' a tramp, Springsteen? You're not The Boss of me. Jeez.
"Like a knight from some old fashioned book, I have saved all my ribbons for thee."
Cohen, enough about your fuckin' ribbons, already. Jeez.
"'Hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed?' He just grinned and shook my hand. 'No' was all he said."
Tough crowd. Jeez.